The Language of Human Memory
by TheOliveFairy
Summary: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin didn't know what it meant to be at war, but they knew what it meant to love. And every once in a while, between their friend James' adamant desire to be drafted and Peter's gradual withdrawal into himself, they can indulge.
1. Chapter 1

**Would one review make me happy? Yes. Yes it would.  
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**A/N: **Hello! I'm TheOliveFairy, your author of this story. _The Language of Human Memory _is rated M for a reason, so if mature boy on boy sexual activity does not appeal to you, please leave. This story is a spin-off of _A Separate Peace_ and yes this is my first _decent_ published story.

**Disclaimer: **_Harry Potter_® is copyright J.K. Rowling. HARRY POTTER, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks belonging to her. This fan fiction is provided for entertainment purposes and in respect to J.K. Rowling.

In this chapter introductions are established in a sense and the Marauders are up to no good.

Thanks to pinksailboat for editing!

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><p><strong>The Language of Human Memory<strong>

**_Chapter 1_**

Remus went back to Hogwarts not long ago, and found it looking oddly newer than when he was a teacher there fifteen years before. It seemed more anesthetized than he remembered it; more horizontal and strait-laced, with narrower windows and innovative brick workings, as though a coat of varnish had been put over everything for better preservation. But, of course, fifteen years before, there had been no war, no need for renovations. Perhaps the school wasn't as well kept in those days before it was rebuilt; perhaps varnish, along with everything else had gone to war.

He didn't entirely like this glossy new surface, because it made the school look like a museum- what Remus did not want it to be. In the deep, tacit way in which feeling becomes stronger than thought, Remus had always felt that Hogwarts had come into existence the day he entered it, was vibrantly real while he was a student there, and then blinked out like a candle the day he left it.

Now here the school was after all, preserved by some considerate hand with varnish and wax. Sealed along with Hogwarts was the well known fear which had surrounded his own school day as well as his days at a teacher- so much of it that he hadn't even known it was there. Maybe because -unfamiliar with the absence of fear and what that was like- Remus had not been able to identify its presence. He had had friends, high marks in classes, and a place to call his own for the first time. And as a teacher he had students to teach and protect- not the coming war to think about- a war that he thought would never happen because the man that had caused the first war in his days at Hogwarts had been killed by an infant.

Looking back fifteen years, when he was once a teacher, Remus could see with great clarity now the fear he had experienced had lived on, which must mean that in the interval between student and teacher he had succeeded in a very important under taking: Remus must have made his escape from it.

Remus felt fear's echo, and along with that he felt the unhinged, uncontrollable joy which had been its accompaniment and opposite face, joy which had broken out sometimes in those days like Northern Lights across black sky. He had never felt so alive until had entered Hogwarts, and so scared of the outside world.

There were a couple of places that Remus wanted to see. Both were fearful sites, but that was why he wanted to see them. So after lunch at the Hog's Head Inn, Remus walked back toward the school. It was raw, nondescript time of year, toward the end of November, and today was the kind of wet, self-pitying November, the day when every speck of dirt stood out clearly. Hogwarts luckily had very little of such weather- the icy clamp of winter, or the radiant summers of Ireland were more characteristic of it- but this day it blew wet, moody gusts around Remus.

He walked along the trail toward the gates. The homes he passed were handsome and as unusual as he remembered. They were clever wizard modernizations of old Colonial mansions ending in extensions of Victorian wood as impressive and just as forbidding as ever. Remus had rarely seen any student perturb them- for fear of professors that might catch them. But, now that he thought of it, Remus had never seen anyone go into one of them, or anyone out on the lawn, or even open a window. Today, with their failing ivy and stripped, moaning trees the houses looked both more elegant and more lifeless than ever.

Like all old, good schools, Hogwarts stood isolated behind walls and gates, but partially emerged naturally from the surrounding Forbidden Forest which had helped produce it. There was no sudden moment of encounter as Remus approached it; the houses along the way hade began to dissipate and grow fewer and farther apart, until stopping all together, which meant that Remus was near the gates, and he became suddenly exhausted, which meant that he had passed through the wards barricading the school from any unwanted guests.

It was early afternoon and the grounds and castle towers and squat brick buildings were deserted since everyone was in class. There was nothing to distract Remus as he made his way across a wide field that housed the pitch far off in the distance up to a wide red brick building, made of the same materials as the other buildings, but with a large cupola and a bell and a clock and Latin over the door way-_draco dormiens nunquam titillandus- _the entry way into the court yard.

Remus walked through the arch into a tunnel that led to tall gray swinging doors. He reached the marble foyer and stopped at the foot of a long white marble flight of stairs. Although they were old stairs, the worn moons in the middle of each step was not very deep. The marble must have been unusually hard. That seemed very likely, only too likely, although with all of Remus' thoughts about these stairs this exceptional hardness had not occurred to him. It was surprising that he had overlooked that crucial fact, especially since he and Sirius had spent an extraordinary amount of time on these stairs, and also in the room that they led to.

There was nothing else to notice; they of course were the same stairs. And Remus? Well, he naturally felt older- he had begun at that point the emotional examination to not how far his convalescence had gone- He was taller, broader generally in relation to these stairs. He had more galleons and success and "security" than in the days when ghosts seemed to go up and down them with him.

He left the stairs and continued on into the courtyard, which was still empty. He walked alone down a wide gravel path with large elms that were charmed to grow out of the bordering murals along the walls with plaques beginning with "In memory of…" at the base of the trunks and away from the bubbling fountain in the courtyard, toward the far side of the school.

Hogwarts was sometimes considered the most beautiful school among Wizard standards, and even on this dismal afternoon its power was asserted. Remus thought of the beauty of small areas order- a large yard, a group of trees, a few spiraling towers, four dormitory house entrances, a circle of old buildings, high roofs of pure grandeur, halls with entrances big enough for giants- living together in continuous harmony. He felt that an argument might begin any time about which school lived in higher regards; in fact it had, between the proud Headmistress of Hogwarts and the pompous Headmistress of Beauxbatons. Everything at Hogwarts slowly changed and slowly harmonized with what had gone before. So it was logical to hope that since the buildings and towers and the curriculum could achieve this, he could achieve, perhaps unknowingly already had achieved, this growth and harmony himself.

Remus would know more about that when he had seen the second place he had come to see- the first being the stairs, though not really. He was more interested in the room that was connected to the steps with its happier memories, but he couldn't bring himself to climb those stairs- so he roamed on past the balanced red brick dormitory entrance to Hufflepuff house with webs of leafless ivy clinging to them that flicked and curled like cat tails, through a ramshackle of a garden that for a hundred yards had supplied both Herbology with basic magical plants and Potions with needed ingredients for the curriculum, past the solid Greenhouse filled with students mulling about inside past the Care of Magical Creatures designated area and he reached the huge open sweep of ground known as the Pitch.

Hogwarts was both scholarly in the Magical department for training young Witches and Wizards as well as athletic in the Quidditch department- so the Pitch was vast and well kept by the grounds keeper, and, except at such a time of year before the Winter Holiday, constantly in use. Now the field reached soggily and emptily away, the tall stands covered with old tarps to prevent tearing and putrefaction, the Forbidden forest on the right, and at the far end the now bare Whomping Willow, detectable only by its huge silhouette cast through the fog. It was such a gray, misty day that Remus could not see the top of the shrieking shack from where he stood.

Remus started the long trudge across the Pitch and had gone some distance before he paid any attention to the soft and muddy ground, which was dooming his city shoes. He didn't stop. Near the center of the pitch where thin lakes of muddy water which Remus had to make his way around, his unrecognizable shoes making obscene noises as he lifted them out of the mire. With nothing to block it the wind flung wet gusts at him; at any other time, Remus would have felt like a fool slogging through mud and rain, only to look at a tree.

A little fog hung over the hills so that as Remus neared it he felt himself becoming isolated from everything but the looming tree. The wind was blowing more steadily here, and Remus was beginning to feel the cold. He never wore a hat, he had forgotten gloves. There were several trees at a safe distance from the Willow that reached bleakly into the fog. Remus studied the knurled roots that expanded outward from the seemingly dormant tree until he found the small indistinct one he was looking for. The tree had loomed in Remus' memory as a huge lone spike dominating the small hillside, forbidding as an artillery piece, high as the beanstalk.

The Whomping Willow seemed to Remus standing there to resemble those men, the giants of your childhood, whom you encounter years later and find that they are not merely smaller in relation to your growth, but they are absolutely smaller, shrunken by age. In this double demotion the old giants have become pixies while you were looking elsewhere.

The tree was not only stripped by the fall season, it seemed weary from age, from experience, enfeebled, dry. Remus was thankful that the tree was sleeping and very thankful he had come to see it. He came, he saw, he conquered. _Veni, Vidi, Vici. _Nothing endures, not a tree, not love, not even death a by violence.

Changed, Remus sloshed back through the mud. He was drenched; anybody could see it was time to come in out of the rain.

The Whomping Willow was tremendous, an irate, steely black steeple presiding before the start of the hillside that lead to the foreboding shack Remus had spent many a fateful nights in for the past year. Remus was damned if he attempt to cross the field in which the tree was planted; it was hard enough already for Dumbledore to stun it so Remus could gain access to the tunnel that led to the Shrieking Shack. The hell with it. Only Sirius could think up such a crazy idea.

Sirius of course saw nothing the slightest bit intimidating about it. He wouldn't, or he wouldn't admit it if he did. Not Sirius.

"What I like best about this tree," Sirius started in that voice of his, the equivalent in sound of a hypnotist's eyes, "what I like is that it will be a cinch to conquer it!" He opened his dark eyes wider and gave the three of his friends a manic look, and only the smirk on his wide mouth with its droll, slightly protruding upper lip reassured them that he wasn't completely nutters.

"Is that what you like best?" James asked sarcastically. He said a lot of thing sarcastically this summer.

"Aye," he said. This weird improper Irish affirmative always made James, Remus, and Peter laugh, as Sirius knew, James had to laugh, which made him seem less satirical.

The three boys stood looking with masked apprehension from Sirius to the tree. Its soaring black trunk was abundant with watery bark leading up to substantial branches that whisked out into long fist-like ends with many smaller branches- which almost acted as a wide assortment of fingers. If Sirius was quick enough, he could avoid the hard slamming branches. If he was agile enough, he could dodge the swinging limbs. If he were smart enough, he could strategically maneuver himself through the tree's blind spots. But really, all Sirius needed was luck. Lots of luck. The group's upperclassmen had supposedly done this before, or so they had heard. At least a few fourth years could do it, barely; but they had a crucial two years advantage over the four. No Second year had ever tried. Naturally, the Marauders, their group's given name thanks to Remus' cleverness last spring their first year, were going to be the first Second years to try, and just as naturally, Sirius would be the first to attempt it, and then inveigle others, Remus included, into trying it with him.

They weren't even Second years exactly. For this was the Summer Session, just established to keep up with the pace of the war, which had began the past year, 1970, and was now in full swing. They were in shaky transit that summer from the groveling First years to the near-respectable Second years. The Seventh years, seniors, practically soldiers, rushed ahead of their lowerclassmen to the war. They were caught up in Auror-based programs and Healer classes and a physical hardening regimen, which so happened to include running through the Whomping Willow's area of attack. The Marauders were still calmly reading _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 _and playing hide and go seek in Gryffindor Tower. Until Sirius thought of the tree.

Remus stood looking up at it, a look of consternation rivaling Sirius' look of excitement. "Do you want to go first?" Sirius asked the three, rhetorically. James and Peter swapped tense looks and Remus just looked at Sirius quietly, a silent, _Really? _went unspoken between them. And so Sirius ventured stealthily away from their hiding spot in the Gryffindor stands of the Pitch towards the tree, which ruffled its long hanging oval shaped leaves as Sirius drew nearer. Sirius was such an energetic athlete and sure to be beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He was taller than Remus by one and one half inches, at five feet one inch (Remus had claimed he was also that height when he turned twelve, but Sirius had stated publicly with that simple, shocking, self-acceptance of his, "No you're at least an inch shorter than me. I'm tall for twelve. You, though, are average." James of course had agreed with Sirius. That git. He was as tall as Sirius. Peter had nodded enthusiastically at James). Sirius weighed one hundred and twenty pounds, a galling eleven pounds more than Remus, which flowed from his legs to torso around shoulders to arms and developing strong neck in an uninterrupted, unemphatic unity of strength; Sirius was only a shadow of the short, solid boy that Remus had met on the Hogwart's Express. Remus, on the other hand, was all planes and angles, a thin and long nose and a slightly narrow chin, a wide mouth with a slim upper lip and a plush lower one. There were scars on his face of the battles that raged beneath the full moon. He was whipcord thin, lean lanky limbs and had a pale chest covered with wiry emergent muscles and countless scars.

When Sirius reached the area just outside of the branches reach, the tree snapped forward with surprising force and used its entire trunk to slam down on the ground near Sirius, who sprang away from it and began running and dodging, trying to make his way to the opposite side where he would be able to traverse one of the many small hills that made up a larger prominence which stretched down to Hogsmede. To Remus' left, Peter was shouting, "Go right! Go right!" and James was cursing Sirius' stupidity seven ways from Sunday. Sirius was dodging branches left and right, until finally he crossed over one of the enormous roots and yelled "This one's for my contribution to the war effort!" and he dove onto safer grounds, scrambling madly uphill until he made it to the top, the willow below him striking out in his direction.

"Great!" he exclaimed, standing up with self-righteousness, fists promptly going to his hips as he stood over the still thrashing Willow. Sirius' bangs were plastered to his face with sweat and his shoulder length hair was in disarray. "That's the most fun I've had this week! Who's next?"

Remus was. The tree flooded him with a sensation of alarm all the way to his tingling fingers. He had done this before, though, the tree was normally stunned, writhing against the invisible restraints. Remus made his way from the James and Peter towards the tree which was still madly attempting to get to Sirius' taunting form. He stood at the edge of the clearing, looking skeptically between the branches and roots, trying to map out the safest path to Sirius. It was nearly impossible to make it without encountering something difficult, something that might draw the attention of the Whomping Willow away from Sirius and back to Remus. "Come on," drawled Sirius from above the clearing, "stop standing there. You can't anticipate what the tree will do." Remus recognized with automatic tenseness that the view was very impressive from there, or at least that's what Sirius thought. "When You-Know-Who has his wand pointed at you," he shouted, "you can't stand around admiring the view. You've got to act quickly!"

What was he doing, anyway? Remus idly wondered. Why did he let Sirius talk him into stupid things like this? Is he trying to show off? It was an unspoken rule amongst the Marauders: James was their leader. Remus was the intelligence, though quiet and reserved, mainly due to his condition. Sirius was their bravery, the first to act and a great schemer- his own form of brilliance. Peter was the humor. The Marauders enjoyed his company and he could be a real wit sometimes.

"Run!"

With the sensation that Remus was throwing his life away, He ran off into the clearest space. Some tips of twigs snapped at his face and robes, but none big enough to neither disturb the tree nor cause any harm to him. He rolled beneath a low hanging branch and then dove over a large arching root, only to end on the left side of the tree. He quickly clambered up next to Sirius, the tree shaking with rage when it realized what Remus had done.

"I think that was better than Sirius'!" James yelled from across the clearing.

"All right mate," Sirius shouted back to James in his cordial, penetrating voice, that reverberant instrument in his chest, "don't start awarding prizes until you've passed the test. The tree is waiting."

James closed his mouth and marched dutifully forward. He didn't back away, and when he got close enough, he dashed past the tree, accidentally tripping over a root and landing heavily on the ground. He crawled forward quickly and stood when the tree snapped around and swung a thin whip-like branch at James, which caught him in the calf, though lightly. He exclaimed his discomfort and dashed onward to the top of the hill.

"Are you alright James?" Remus asked, bending down to aid a groveling James. The back of his black pant leg was torn and an open slice was bleeding.

"Ow. Sirius you prat, why'd you make me do it?" James said, though no real rage was in his voice.

"Hey, don't point fingers, now," Sirius amended.

Remus sighed and removed his wand from his robe. He muttered _Episkey _and then _Tergeo_ and James' wound was mostly healed, excluding a small faint pink line. Remus was still trying to get the gist of healing spells, so they weren't always fully effective.

"Aw, what about me, Doctor Lupin," Sirius pouted. Remus rose and looked over at Sirius who had a few bloody scratches on his face. He took Sirius face in his hand and performed the same spells he achieved on James, carefully turning Sirius' jaw as he worked. Sirius thanked him and then reached past him to help James up.

Turning back towards where Peter was hidden, Sirius yelled, "It's just you pal!"

Peter strode nervously toward the tree, which was shaking lightly, still slightly inclined towards the boys. The Whomping Willow must have felt Peter's clumsy misstep onto one of its many roots, and it swung around, only to hit Peter directly on the arm he was using in an attempt to shield himself and he was promptly sent sprawling a good fifteen feet away. Remus was first to react. He ran down the farside of the hill and made a wide arc around the tree towards Peter, who was groaning on the ground, hunched up over his injured arm.

When he reached Peter, Remus bent down and laid a hand on his back. "I think it's broken," Peter said through his tears. "Okay, let's take you to Madam Pomfrey," Remus opted, helping a trembling Peter to his feet. James and Sirius joined them and helped Peter back toward the castle. James had one arm around Peter's waist and was mumbling to Peter softly, while Remus was trying to get Peter to stop touching his damaged arm. Sirius walked serenely next to him.

"You were very good," said Sirius good-humoredly, "once I shamed you into it." Remus could detect the barest hint of guilt in his voice.

"You didn't shame anybody into anything."

"Oh yes I did," Sirius replied, his tone changing to something akin to smugness, " I'm good for you that way. You have a tendency to back away from things otherwise."

"I've never backed away from anything in my life!" James called out proudly from the other side of Peter.

Sirius just smirked and walked on, or rather flowed on, rolling forward in his black loafers, with such unthinking unity of movement that "walk" didn't describe it.

The other three were led by James to the infirmary across the enormous fields toward the Great Hall. Underfoot, the healthy green turf was brushed with dew and ahead of him Remus could see a faint green haze hanging above the grass, shot through with twilight sun. James and Sirius stopped talking for once and Peter continued to cry not as severely whilst cradling his damaged arm. Remus could hear cricket chirping and bird twittering of dusk, a carriage, the rumbling of Flich's carriage gunning along an empty road to Hogsmede a quarter of a mile away, a burst of faint, isolated laughter carried to them from the back door of the Herbology Greenhouse, and then over all, cool and matriarchal, the six o'clock bell from the Dinner Hall behind the Great Hall, the calmest most carrying bell toll in the world, civilized, calm, invincible, and final.

The toll ended when the boys entered through the main entrance archway, the doors open and greeting from the courtyard and they took the left hall down into a square shaped corner where the small- in comparison to the Great Hall's entrance- arched doors of the infirmary stood. Sirius knocked twice, and, a few moments later, was met by a bustling Madam Pomfrey who was chewing her dinner thoughtfully. She swallowed and spoke.

"What did you boys do this time?"

Remus wasn't expecting that. Then again, he figured that James, Sirius, and Peter were in here more often than other First and Second years combined.

"My friend fell from the stairs in our dorm and hurt his arm," James lied easily. Pomfrey opened the doors wider and ushered them inside with a loud, audible sigh. She maneuvered Peter from James' arm and sat him down on one of the white washed Infirmary beds. After much coaxing, Pomfrey was able to gently pry Peter's unharmed hand from his broken arms and lifted his robe sleeve to inspect the damage. She rushed away to retrieve some potions and set them by the bed and then removed her wand from her waist pocket and set the bone with a flick and a spell Remus couldn't quite catch. Peter yelped and immediately withdrew his arm from her hold.

"It was a clean break, though it seems more like some two hundred pound something or another landed on his arm with a lot of force," she said, skeptically looking from James to Sirius, and then, surprisingly to Remus. "You're pretty good with healing spells, Mr. Lupin," she said, handing Peter a potion in a white bottle with the design of what might have been a skeleton's torso, which he downed quickly and then another, orange-ish looking one which caused him to nod off to sleep. She walked over to Sirius and admired the faint partially healed cuts on his face. Remus had the modesty to flush and then asked, "How did you know that?" Pomfrey laughed and responded, "You're the only one I've ever seen with a healer's book in your lap. I figured you were more studious than your mischief making friends here."

Remus looked down and James smiled knowingly at Sirius. "Your friend will need to stay here over night so the Skele-Gro can take effect and I can bind his arm," Pomfrey said airily, and then went over to a tall cabinet and retrieved something, a small object. She returned with a flat cylinder of salve and said, "For the scars, Mr. Lupin." Remus couldn't tell if she was talking about the scars on Sirius' neck and chin or the ones left over from his monthly transformation.

The three boys left, once they were sure dinner was over so they could sneak into the kitchens and have the house elves whip them up a meal. They headed for their dormitory, passing the transfiguration classroom, which was dark and silent, and a portrait of an old robust man that inquired about their cooling food. There were only two hundred student's remaining at Hogwarts in the summer, not enough to fill most of the school. They passed the spiraling Headmaster's staircase- the office above them empty, he was doing something for the Minister in London; past the crumbling chapel that had been there even before Dumbledore had attended Hogwarts; past the large potion apothecary that supplied half of the potions found in the Hogsmede apothecary, where there were some dim lights shining from a few of its many windows, Slughorn at work in their Potions classroom; down a short slope into the broad and well clipped gardens, on which light fell from the big surrounding towers and buildings. A dozen or so Ravenclaws were loafing on the grass, a mixture of boys and girls, and the kitchen from where the three just came rattled from below the wing of the Dinner Hall and accompanied the Ravenclaws' talk. The sky was darkening steadily, which brought up the lights in the dormitories and the old houses; a loud turntable a long way off from the Hufflepuff building played a _The Who_ record starting with _Going Mobile_, rejected that and played _Behind Blue Eyes _and then grew more ambitious with _Wont Get Fooled Again_.

James, Sirius_, _and Remus entered the West Wing and climbed the Moving Stairs until they reached the hall with the portrait of The Fat Lady, who amicably welcomed them home. They supplied her the password and she swung open, granting them access to the Gryffindor Common Room, where a few students were mulling about. James led the way up the stairs to their dorm and into the warm welcoming room of red and gold, they each simultaneously flopped into their individual beds upon arrival.

Under the yellow study lights, Remus was halfway through _The Commitments _while his two counterparts finished the assigned potions introduction in their newest text book. Their illegal radio, tuned into the War update channel_, _turned too low to be intelligible, was broadcasting the latest news. Outside there was a rustling early summer movement of the wind; the Seventh years allowed out later then the lowerclassmen, came fairly quietly back as the bell sounded ten stately times. Boys of Gryffindor ambled past their open door toward the bathroom, and there was a period of steadily pouring shower water. Then, from his view through the window, Remus watched lights snap out all over school. He undressed and put some pajama bottoms on, as did James, but Sirius, who had heard they were unmilitary, didn't; they turned out the lights and sprawled on top of their sheets in the summer air, and then that last Summer Session day came to an end.

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><p>Reviews are appreciated :)<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Hello! I'm TheOliveFairy, your author of this story. _The Language of Human Memory _is rated M for a reason, so if coarse language and mature boy on boy sexual activity does not appeal to you, please leave. This story is a spin-off of _A Separate Peace_ and yes this is my first _decent_ published story.

**Disclaimer: **_Harry Potter_® is copyright J.K. Rowling. HARRY POTTER, characters, names and related indicia are trademarks belonging to her. This fan fiction is provided for entertainment purposes and in respect to J.K. Rowling.

In this chapter, tempers flare and a little romance sparks.

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><p><em><strong>Language of Human Memory<strong>_

_**Chapter 2**_

Over the course of two weeks after the Summer Session had ended, the Marauders had missed a total of twelve meals, due to Sirius and James who preferred to enjoin the elves to bring them their food. Remus thought it was petty to make the elves do so, but he went along with it anyway. It was considered rude to read at the meal table, at least, according to his father, but the tradition stuck, and Remus really only wanted to study in his free time. Herbology was especially demanding this year and Remus was having difficulties remembering the genus' of the many plants that Professor Sprout continued spouting off. He typically got the names of the plants the Second years worked with confused with the vast array of potions ingredients that Slughorn had them use in their class. Furthermore, Remus couldn't even explain how perplexing Arithmancy was. Every time he walked away from the classroom he wondered why he had even wanted to sign up for the extra course.

Unbeknownst to the boys, someone had noticed their absences at dinner time, and had also noticed the elves making regular trips to the boy's dormitory. Lily Evans, a very fair girl with bright green eyes and scarlet hair, was quite observant and barely anything got by her. She instantly jumped to the conclusion that the infamous "Marauders" were the culprits.

It was a Thursday morning- the clean-washed shine of summer mornings in Ireland- that Lily Evans stopped at their door. James scrambled to tug on his robe completely and then flew over to the opposite side of the room, where Lily stood, arms crossed and an incensed look on her face. The boys had just finished their breakfast- eggs Benedict- and were dressing for their first class, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Remus had noticed that Lily did not have the careless, almost British look like most of the students in Gryffindor the first day he had met her, making her like an untouchable force among the other students- impervious because she had always been different with her enforcement of the rules and studious habits- the one thing she and Remus had in common and often shared. They had spent many hours in the library together, working as codependent scholarly partners, sometimes on just a platonic level. Needless to say, they had become fast friends, even through Lily's duress about proper protocol. She had always been flaxen though, in a pretty sort of way- a trait James thought to be most attractive.

Sirius stepped forward quickly, explaining that the four of them had been keeping a still mending Peter, company because he could hardly move, what with his injury making him lethargic. Lily exclaimed her indignation that Peter's grievance had only affected his arm, but Sirius rambled on, his voice soaring and plunging as he crafted a story of friendship and loyalty, with his vibrant sound box, his eyes now and then widening and flashing. Standing in the shadows with the bright window behind him, Remus couldn't help but realize just how very crafty, yet intricate Sirius was, full of both charisma and cunningness. He blazed with sun tanned health and radiated confidence like a pheromone. As Lily looked at him and listened to the scatterbrained eloquence of Sirius' explanation, she could be soon rapidly losing her grip on sternness.

"You know the kitchens are prohibited to students! Besides, you purposely make the elves go out of their way to fix you a 'special meal' each and every time…" she broke in.

But Sirius pressed his advantage. Not because he wanted to be forgiven for harboring the elves' uncontrollable need to dutifully attend to their masters - that didn't interest him at all, unlike Lily who was raised muggle and thought anything akin to slavery was appalling. Sirius pressed his advantage because he saw that Lily was pleased, won over in spite of herself. Lily was slipping from her hold over the boys momentarily, and it was just possible, if Sirius pressed hard enough, that there might be a flow of simple, unregulated friendship between them, and such flows were one of Sirius' reasons for living. And besides, Sirius loved to eat, especially when he didn't have to leave the comfort of his bedchamber to do so. Out of all three of them, Sirius ate the most. He was like a bottomless pit, that one.

"The real reason, Lily, was that we just had to help out this elf, Winky, who wanted to practice making certain kinds of food so she could satisfy the inhabitants of Hogwarts, but she couldn't because…" Remus knew, James and Peter knew, and Lily must've known that this excuse was total and utter crap. But for some reason, Lily's expression softened. "We had to help her, naturally," he went on, "because we all just wanted to make Winky happy. So what if it was convenient for us to stay with Peter in our dorm and enjoy a well cooked meal? It just so happens that by not attending every meal in the Great Hall, we are helping out a dear elf!," Sirius finished, sounding every bit sincere; Sirius had always been good at telling stories, true or not, and if this stunned people then he was surprised.

Lily released her pent up breath with a sort of amazed laugh, stared at Sirius for a while, and then exclaimed, "What a wonderful thing you are doing! Helping out an elf and sticking by Peter's side while he heals! How very thoughtful." And that was that. Lily left, leaving a love struck James in the dust- who proceeded to sigh and lean against Remus' bed post.

This was the way that the students as well as the professors began to treat the Marauders during their time at school. They seemed to modify their usual attitude of floating, chronic disapproval and would either laugh along with their pranks or would let them slide. During the winter of their First year, most of the staff and elder students regarded anything unexpected in the Marauders with suspicion, seeming to feel that anything they said or did was illegitimate. Now that the boys had been around long enough, they seemed to uncoil and began to believe that the Marauders were with them half the time, and only spent the other half trying to make fools of them. A streak of tolerance was detectable; James decided that they were beginning to show commendable signs of maturity.

It was partly James' doing, but mostly Sirius'. The Hogwarts school had never before experienced a student who combined a calm ignorance of the rules, like James, but with a winning urge to be good and who seemed to love the school truly and deeply. The faculty threw up its hands over Sirius, and so loosened its grip on all of them. Peter was, however, a model boy, like Remus, and tried his best during classes and aimed to not step out of line. On the other hand, Peter idolized James and enjoyed being a part of their small group- a group that had the perfect components for mischievous doings and that seemed to never be in trouble, despite their obvious ignorance of the rules.

But there seemed to be another reason why the staff seemed so insensible at times. Remus thought it was because they reminded the school of peace. They hadn't been drafted to go to war, and none of them had taken pains to show they were interested in doing so, except, for maybe James. The Marauders were careless and wild, a trait that the three others brought out in Remus, a normally introverted boy. Remus supposed that they could be thought of as a sign of the life the war was being fought to preserve with their mixture of Purebloods, Half-bloods, and even the inhuman ones, like Remus. And that's why Remus ran around with James, Sirius, and Peter. He felt welcome and, in spite of himself, happy.

Soon after Lily left, Sirius turned to James and said, "She's hot. Think I might pursue her myself, James m' boy."

To which James responded, "I think not, you goof!" and then he threw the pillow on his Remus' pristine bed into Sirius' face.

There was a quiet shuffling amidst the summer heat as the boys retrieved their third period textbook: _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_. Suddenly, Peter exclaimed "What's that thing?"

James had just slipped a yellow hemp wristband onto his arm. He said, "This is my magical ticket to Neverland."

Sirius, who was holding Peter's textbook for him, walked past Peter and stood in front of James. "No, cut it out. What is it?"

"This," James answered with some pride "is going to be my emblem. Mum sent it to me with Taurus last week. Have you ever seen a bracelet that's meant to support the soldiers fighting You-Know-Who? No? Well, you have now."

"What do you mean 'a bracelet supporting soldiers'?" Sirius had expressed his distaste about the war; or rather his belief that age seventeen was too young for a person to fight in a war- an opinion James did not agree with. They stood on opposite sides.

"Well I mean what it means, obviously," James replied, exasperated, out of the side of his mouth as he turned to leave. James idly turned the wristband on his arm, holding the textbook under an elbow. Remus looked nervously between James and Sirius. "I wonder what everyone will think when they see this?" Remus' translation: _I wonder what Lily will think. _

"You're nuts," Sirius finally said, seemingly over their small tense moment. Remus could tell otherwise though. This was a big deal.

The four walked down into the common room. "Well in case suitors" an implied _Lily _went unspoken, "begin clamoring at the door, you can tell them that I'm wearing this as my emblem." James pushed open the portrait and the boys climbed out. "I was reading in the Prophet that Aurors discovered an old abandoned house in Little Hangleton that contained a few manuscripts written by You-Know-Who and had Forrester's"-an infamous Death Eater-"name inscribed on the envelopes. Did you hear about it? There were apparently battle plans and attack locations written inside." Only someone who knew James as well as Remus did could realize he was not changing the subject. James' was the type of person who would poke the pink elephant in the room with a ten-foot pole. Remus waited quietly for him to make whatever fantastic connection there might be between this and the bracelet. "Well, we have to show our support somehow. Just think about it! Every day we, the good guys, I mean, are one step closer to defeating You-Know-Who. It's not like we can really celebrate, so I'm going to wear this, as an emblem."

"No, I didn't know the Aurours discovered anything," Sirius answered. The group had turned a corner and was heading towards a flight of stairs, one that would take them to the third floor. They crossed the threshold at the top and entered into Classroom 3C, the designated DADA classroom.

James did wear the bracelet and, throughout the day, got many questions about it. Apparently, through the past year, yellow had become the established color that supported the Ministry and the newly created and highly elusive Order of the Phoenix in their fight against the Dark Lord and the Death Eater organization. After the class, Mr. Krauss came up to James and inquired about it. Remus noticed James' face grow pink as he politely explained the meaning of the bracelet.

It was hypnotism, or so Remus thought, the way that promotional things like this bracelet or the color yellow could lead people to idealized values, like joining the resistance to stop the Dark Lord and sacrificing themselves for something they may or may not win. Remus couldn't help but envy James and his ability to conform- it seemed to be something he and Sirius had resisted at a young age, with him being a werewolf and with Sirius straying from the norm in every possible way.

After classes and late into the afternoon, both Remus and Sirius had to attend the Slug Club hosted by their potions teacher, Professor Slughorn. It was held in the vacant Dining Room behind the Great Hall- used only by the Professors for their end of the year celebration and now the Slug Club- and Slughorn himself had invited the two boys. It would be Sirius' second time attending and Remus' first. He had been asked earlier in the day during Double Potions by Slughorn to make an appearance. The Slug Club dinner hall was a medium sized room of over-exercised splendor, spacious and damp and without any plants. The chocolate brown chairs that surrounded a wide dark now set dining table were painful to sit on for long periods of time, and twelve or so students sat squirming on their seats with delicate tea cups in their hands, awaiting the arrival of the appetizer, carrot soup. Sirius and Remus sat next to each other, three chairs down from Slughorn who was at the head of the table and the two were quietly conversing about Quidditch and whether or not he, Remus, should try out. Remus said no, but Sirius said "go for it" because both he and James were trying out and it would be fun to have a third. Peter was out of the question, due to the fact that he was still having trouble with his arm. It would become stiff during cold nights and at times would crack and pop when Peter tried to move it.

Remus had adorned his nice robes and had brushed his hair back from his face for the occasion and even instilled a disillusionment charm that would conceal the scars on his face, something he had been using long before Hogwarts. Sirius had soaked and brushed his hair, even though he claimed he could care less about the Slug Club. This gave his head a sleek look, but was contradicted by his warm, honest expression. His ears, which Remus had never noticed before, were fairly small and set close to his head, and combined with his plastered hair they now gave his sharp average-sized nose and high cheek bones the look of a prow.

The others talked easily amongst themselves. Some discussed classes and upcoming projects. The Hufflepuff seeker and chaser were talking about the first Quidditch game of the year and possible recruits. Sirius and Remus began to talk with Lily, who was also there, about James- which was oddly enough Lily's choice of topic. However, she just wanted to know why he was such a dunce. Sirius told her it was because he had flobberworms in his brain that made him mentally incapable of talking to girls. Remus hit him lightly on the arm whilst Lily laughed.

It didn't matter who was there and from what house they hailed from; it was the event that mattered. But after a while, the conversations dissipated.

Slughorn's booming voice could be heard from down the table as he discussed loudly the war and the politics of it to a sixth year Ravenclaw. Remus gradually withdrew from a conversation with two other muggle born wizards about Lib Dem and MPs. Sirius was quiet and his head was inclined towards Slughorn, possibly listening to the man who seemed intent on being heard. Remus soon tuned into Slughorn as well, who was opening an issue of the Prophet. There was quiet rustling until Slughorn had straightened the paper. He looked up, almost as if to assure he had the entire room's attention and pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. Their professor cleared his throat and began:

_Purebloods for Purification?__ By George Skeeter_

"_It is a well known fact among the wizarding community in England that Pureblood families hold themselves in higher regards than others. Now, with the Dark Lord on the rise, is there a possibility that the Purebloods will take up alliance with him in order to purify wizarding society? "Yes, it's very possible," Septimus Weasley_,"- Arthur Weasley's father, Remus assumed-"_said in early July of this year. According to Minister of Magic, Nobby Leach, any interaction with this so called 'Dark Lord' will be considered treason against the Ministry as well as the Muggle government and anyone caught with relations to Him will be severely punished; a life sentence at Azkaban could be one of many ways to penalize any associative."_

Slughorn continued, voice wavering.

"_I, George Skeeter, decided to go undercover and head to the Black Market of wizard trade in Underground London, sometimes nicknamed Gossip Central. There I met shady barterer Loney LeFay. "Rumor has it," LeFay said, "that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is recruiting strong, supremacist Pureblood families."_

"_How could this be happening? What with World War II having only ended less than three decades ago and still looming over the United Kingdom, how could England's Wizarding community not be guarding against another political outbreak, and, quite possibly, genocide? The Dark Lord's intentions are not entirely clear, but it is possible he may take violent measures to reach his goal: total purification of the magical race. But what does that mean?_

"Well, if you ask me, any Pureblood family that's dense enough to be in cohorts with You-Know-Who is no respectable wizard. Only the most brainless of wizards and witches would join up with him- I don't know how anyone could make that conscious choice," Slughorn interrupted. Yaxley, a sixth year Slytherin boy, glared at him from across the table.

"'_You-Know-Who is ready to eliminate anything and anybody that stands in his way,'" Lefay elaborated. "He's already recruited Purebloods like the Browns, the Prewetts, the Rosiers, the Yaxleys, and I hear the Blacks are next. According to an inside source," LeFay winked, "They've already taken their first step into His brigade. That murder last week involving that muggle born robe maker what's-her-name [Amelia Lee, 1923-1971] is supposedly Alphard Black's doing-_"

At this point, Remus had been coughing sporadically trying to get Slughorn's attention. Sirius was looking absolutely incapacitated next to Remus, eyes flashing with controlled anger. Slughorn immediately stopped when he realized that a Black sat at his table, as well as a Yaxley.

Slughorn looked first to Yaxley, who would not meet his eye, and then to Sirius. "Oh, excuse me m'boy…" Slughorn trailed off. He must not know how to apologize, Remus thought. He probably couldn't realize what he needed to apologize for. "I'm sure your family isn't nearly as dubious enough to associate with Him." Remus wasn't sure if that was meant to amend Slughorn's slip-up or not because it sounded more like an insult to the Black family rather than a reassurance.

"No, it's okay Professor. Looks like LeFay actually has his facts right," Sirius said somberly, voice open and aching to elaborate. There was a collective indrawn gasp among a few students. Remus was tempted to grab Sirius' knee under the table to prevent him from continuing. He didn't though, and when Sirius spoke again, he kept his tone steady. "Though, I wouldn't necessarily say that all Blacks were in cohorts with him. My parents have never actually seen him, but there is someone at this table who seems to know Tom Riddle quite well and I sometimes wonder if he's still in contact with Him." Remus looked at Sirius, gaping. Even though the Marauders usually got away with things easily, none of them had ever spoken so severely to a professor.

This time, Sirius wasn't going to get away with it. Remus could feel himself become nervous at that. Professor Slughorn's face turned a brilliant shade, and the other students around them were staring horror-stricken at Sirius as if his head had fallen onto the guillotine. But Sirius expression was composed as if he had only made a passing, casual, insignificant comment to Slughorn.

Slughorn looked indignant. "You are correct in your assumption Mr. Black, about me being familiar with Tom Riddle. Unlike, your foolish uncle, I have no intention of mixing with Him. And I'm sure He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is looking forward to future alliance with your family. I, however, get to prevent you from being in the company of His contingent for another five years, so don't be so hasty as to-"

Sirius' reaction was immediate. He quickly stood, knocking back his chair in the process, which fell with a loud jarring clatter to the floor. Sirius gave Slughorn a glare filled with such malevolence, that Slughorn was forced to look away with a condescending _tsk_. He then swept from the room leaving a stunned crowd of students in his wake and a very angry professor, letting the door slam heavily behind him.

Remus rose from his seat, taking extra time to push it out with a loud screech. He retrieved Sirius' deserted chair and set it upright. "You'll have to excuse him, Professor," Remus started. "Sirius is…" Remus flailed, hands moving as if Remus were trying to grasp a word from the air, "…sensitive." And with that, Remus left with quick quiet steps, carefully shutting the door behind him.

Slughorn cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, I believe Mr. Black misunderstood my intentions entirely," he said, and then, "I think it's about time we ate, don't you agree?" This was followed by a unanimous declaration of agreement from the remaining partakers of the Slug Club.

"What are you doing out here?" Sirius questioned. Remus had chased Sirius' shadow down the halls of Hogwarts and out into the surprisingly cool air of the Gardens. The nighttime lay black beyond the swelling glow that the Gardens contained, lit by lamps and floating tea light lanterns.

"I've always been agoraphobic. I'm glad I had an excuse to leave," Remus replied, smirking slightly.

"I don't even know what that means," Sirius chuckled. Remus could see the Whomping Willow in the distance, and beyond that, the tall tower of the Quidditch Pitch. He eyed the waxing gibbous moon in the inky sky with distaste- only a few more days until the full moon and Remus would have to make another daunting trip to the Shrieking Shack, a nickname given to the dumpy house by the populace of Hogwarts because of Remus.

"It's an anxiety disorder. I don't like being in places with a lot of people," Remus said, taking a seat next to Sirius, who was sitting on a low stone wall surrounding a fountain with a statue of a woman pouring water into the surrounding circular basin. She waved at the two when she saw them. The stars above Hogwarts glimmered brightly due to the clear air of Ireland and Remus admired them in silence with Sirius. It was a lovely night.

Remus spoke first, breaking the silence. "You might not have gotten away from that one, Sirius. There may be grim consequences for your comment."

"Well I wouldn't have said anything if Slughorn hadn't been that gassy and-" He was interrupted by laughter that came from the courtyard behind them. Sirius glanced back at a group of congregating group of students and sighed. "There's something really important I've got to talk to you about. I wasn't planning on telling anyone, but I'm worried and I think it would make me feel better if I spoke about it. With you," Sirius said, rising. "Come on, let's go for a walk. This place is too… public."

Remus rose to walk with Sirius as he led him out of the gardens and away from the illuminating lamps onto the moist dark lawn that led to the Willow. Remus was both curious and apprehensive and felt almost guilty at his feeling of inquisitiveness- Sirius sounded, well, _serious._

Once they were one hundred meters away from the gardens, Sirius began to talk. "Mum sent a letter last week. At first it sounded normal enough with her standard greeting and the 'your father and brother are doing well', but it soon evolved into this garb about You-Know-Who and his ideals and how mum and pa planned to join up him. Mum talked about the Prewetts too; said that Mrs. Prewett had come over and romanticized about the 'Dark Lord'

"I'm just so concerned for them. Everyone who has the right head on their shoulders knows that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is bat shit crazy and I don't want them getting hurt. Despite how much I despise their customs their still my parents and I do care for them." Sirius voice broke towards the end, but he kept going.

"I'm scared for Regulus too. He's home all alone without me and now our Mum and Pa are putting the Dark Lord on a pedestal right in front of him and I don't want him to fall for it. He's my brother and my best friend and I know he's like me in the way that he can see the good and bad in people, but he's three years younger than me, nearly eleven, his birthday's this month, and he can so easily absorb bad ethics and wrong impressions."

By now Remus figured they were near the Whomping Willow, though he could not see it in the dark. He was cold, but was distracted by Sirius who was wearing his heart on his sleeve. Remus wanted to reassure him some way, but he couldn't find the words to express his sympathy. He himself had never experienced something like this before, having been an only child coming from an unconnected and sometimes dysfunctional family. They had been poor and had no known status in both the muggle and wizard world. Sirius' family was a different story.

When Sirius spoke again, his voice was broken and Remus was pretty sure he was crying. "I hate this war. It scares me. I'm scared"-Remus grabbed Sirius' hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, offering his condolences through the motion-"I'm scared for James and Peter and you, but I'm mostly just scared for myself. What if I get sucked into this thing? I _hate_ this and I know there's no way we can just stand by and do nothing, I know we have to fight Him, but what if I end up on the wrong side? What if, for some reason, I have to hurt the people dearest to me? I don't want to have to harm James, because he's a half-blood, or you, because you're a werewolf, for Him. I know he dislikes-"

"Wait, what did you say?" Remus cut in. None of his friends knew about- _that_!

"Oh fuck! I forgot. You don't know that we know," Sirius said through his tears. He must've brought his hand to his forehead because Remus heard a resounding _slap _in Sirius' area.

"How did you- how did you find out?" Remus asked quietly. Crickets' chirped somewhere off in the distance and more raucous laughter could be heard from back in the direction that they had come.

"Well we all had our suspicions. James thought that your Mum really was sick and only had a few months left to live. Peter assumed you went to visit you Da in a mental hospital 'cause of that one excuse about visiting your crazy father. I just thought you were hiding something; so, we asked Dumbledore during March of this year-by then your monthly disappearances had been noticed by all of us. He told us the truth, and, surprisingly, the werewolf explanation made a lot more sense. I could suddenly recall that one time when you ranted about how horrid the moon is in First year."

Remus stood frozen in surprise, absolutely flabbergasted that they had known all this time. "And you're not… frightened of me?" he inquired.

"Why would be? Dumbledore told us that you went through pains each month to ensure the safety of others, including and especially us three. Remus, we trust you-_oof_!" Sirius was staggered to suddenly have an armful of Remus. He slowly brought his arms to Remus' shoulder and hugged back. Remus had never cared so much for so many people in his entire life. He felt at home in Hogwarts, but welcomed by James, Sirius, and Peter. They stayed in the embrace for a while, enjoying the warmth and the comfort. Sirius' sniffled awkwardly and made to pull away, when Remus said, "You won't."

"Won't what?"

"You won't hurt any of us. You're good Sirius, there's no denying it. I know you won't make the wrong choices."

Remus could practically feel Sirius' smile in the dark. "Thank you. I needed that," he said, holding Remus' shoulders. "Should we go back? I'm emotionally exhausted." Remus laughed out a "Sure", suddenly feeling lighter than he had in all his life.

As they turned around, a resounding swishing noise could be heard behind them. Remus began to turn around when he felt Sirius bodily throw him to the ground a feet away from where they had once stood and onto the dewy wet grass. There was a thunderous _whomp_ sound nearby their crumpled bodies and Remus felt the ground shake. A creaking noise permeated the air as the Whomping Willow made to pull its immense branch back up and possibly strike again. Sirius and Remus were on their feet in an instant, running at full speed and out of the Willow's range. Once they were by the gardens again, the light from the lamps a relief to be under, they both let out a shaky breath. "That was close," Remus said to Sirius, slightly out of breath. "Yeah," he replied. "Okay, now I'm really tired. And hungry. Want to head to the kitchens?"

"Definitely, you insatiable beast."

It was only after dinner-Filet Mignon and azure sauce- and once Remus was in bed that the full danger of the Whomping Willow began to shake him again. If Sirius hadn't pushed them out of the way… if he had not been right there… Remus and he could have been crushed, probably killed. Sirius had practically saved his life.

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><p>Reviews are appreciated :) Also, if you happen across any grammatical, spelling, etc. problems, please let me know. I live for correctness. Critiques are valued too, but no flames please. There's a difference.<p> 


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